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In Memoriam: Il Pirata, Ten Years Gone

I don’t know if it’s because I see something of myself in them or if it awakens some kind of nurturing instinct, but I always seem to find myself drawn to tragically flawed figures.

Layne Staley and Marco Pantani strike me as two halves of the same whole; incredibly talented yet tortured with mortally addictive personalities, both set loose into a world of over-indulgence. Everyone – including themselves – saw the writing on the wall in the months or even years leading up to their deaths, but everyone seemed helpless to stop the inevitable: a lonely death. To hear Staley sing is to watch Pantani climb; beauty is to witness an artist pouring their anguish into their trade.

I’ve been watching the 1998 Tour and Giro during my morning turbo sessions, and even with the lens through which we now view those rides, his talent was undeniable, but so was his fragile psyche. You can almost taste his self-doubt even as he flies up the mountains like a soaring eagle.

Today, St. Valentines Day, marks the tenth anniversary of Marco’s death, and with that we dive into the archives for a Kermis on Brett’s look at our fallen hero. See also a previous year’s Valentines Day Memorial.

About frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking.

As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it.

Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen.

February 14 has passed down this end of the planet, the flowers are wilting, hangovers nursed, a night of passion abating. A few celebrate a life long lost, others condemn that same life, yet the majority remain oblivious.

Flawed, yes, brilliant, of course, a victim, possibly… regardless of the semantics, this was a man who showed a human side to the machinations of the time he was a part of, and for his fragile character we cannot condemn him. RIP Marco.

I’m not sure I’ll see such artistry again in my lifetime. Watching him in full flight was captivating, whether it was up a mountain or down one. I can’t climb out of the saddle with my hands in the drops without thinking of him, and I suspect none of us can.

I didn’t find road cycling until long after the days of Marco, but from what I’ve learned on this site the comparison with Layne is apt. Like missing the days of Marco, I never got to see AIC perform while Layne was alive. I did see Jerry Cantrell in Vancouver some years after Layne’s passing. Great show, but it would have been so much greater with Layne’s voice. It’s always so tragic when those whose lives are so tortured leave us too early. I often wonder if their tortured souls would have found some solace in the knowledge of the impact they had on the many they never knew, and the reverence with which their names are spoken. Even now after all this time.

I’m not sure I’ll see such artistry again in my lifetime. Watching him in full flight was captivating, whether it was up a mountain or down one. I can’t climb out of the saddle with my hands in the drops without thinking of him, and I suspect none of us can.

Amazing how different he looked with even a bit of hair. Also amazing how different the racers looked not long ago, just due to the baggy kit and the non-hidden cable routing.

Did anyone else read the COTHO piece on cyclingnews? As someone who never liked, and never hated, him I feel much more ambivalent than most readers/commenters on there.

Oh, photo #8…the shirtless dude is reason enough to be a crank turner – that guy is in amazing shape and he ain’t a spring chicken. The built in diet, the needing to stay at climbing weight, the fear of Le Girdle Bibs. What a sport! I actually play futbol twice a week and a few guys are 70 and in excellent shape. They go out to the pub every Tuesday after “practice” as well, they just don’t overdo it. Very impressive dudes. I hope I can still run around at that age! Heck, I have to be on the velodrome until I’m 100, like the Frenchman who keeps on setting his own records.

I too have been watching some past races lately. We’re actually having a winter here and it feels like an eternity since I’ve had a good string of long road rides. I’m reminded of how lucky I am to live in a very favorable climate these days.

But, regarding captivation – I’m new to the sport compared to many of you and never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d a) be into solo endurance sports b) watch people ride bicycles on television/monitor. But turning on a stage race I’m instantly reminded of how much is going on in the peloton at all times. To the uninformed eye, it’s just some folks ridin’ bikes. When you cycle, and learn more, damn there is so much going on! (not necessarily on applicable to cycling; the more you know about anything, the more complex even the simple things are).

On its surface, many judge Pantani as a doper, one of a self destructive, impulsive and perhaps smug euro snob. However, upon further study and reading, his personality could not have been farther from this. He indeed was an innocent soul, a nationalist inherently, a proud Italian. As he made rank, turning PRO, the capitalistic expectations of returns on investments revealed the organized dope of an era inflicted and something upon him, and perhaps it seems to me the great conflict was manifest between his inherent innocence and love of cycling that drove him deeply into depression and I can’t say I can find a thing wrong about that perspective.

Forever, he will be loved on this day of love, it seems so perpetually fitting for his inherent virtue and innocence